these city lights
by dawn in the fields
Summary: "and these city lights will burn you down." izaya, kida, and several warnings.


**these city lights  
**_"and these city lights will burn you down."_

**1.** He first hears of Orihara Izaya through the proverbial grapevine, from voices dropped low in fear and respect (whether of him or of this Orihara, though, he isn't quite sure).

"If it's worth knowing," his anonymous source says, "then Orihara Izaya will know it."

To Kida, these are exactly the words he needs to hear. He's been looking for exactly someone like that, someone who will have all answers to any questions he has.

"What's the price?" Kida asks. If there is anything he has learned so far, it's that nothing is free.

(Nothing, of course, includes what fragile empire he has built up for himself, through blood and sweat and tears and fragments of his soul.

He is not sure if he will get any of it back.)

This is where his source falters. "I don't know," he says, shrugging one shoulder. "It changes, depending."

"Depending on who?" Kida asks.

He shrugs again. "Don't know." He looks up, catching Kida's curious stare. "You're still young," he says. "Be careful."

And Kida scoffs, because young is a relative term, not absolute at all, and he is more mature than anyone else like him could possibly hope to be. Whatever this Orihara Izaya may pose as a threat to, Kida can definitely counter without so much as a thought.

He starts making his plans the very next day.

**2.** She is a tiny slip of a girl, with slim shoulders and an even thinner smile, one that couldn't possibly let any wayward emotions out by accident. Her name is Mikajima Saki, and Kida thinks he may (or may not) be falling in love.

Not many girls have the guts - or the stupidity - to talk to gangsters in broad daylight (but, of course, broad daylight is always better than a secluded dark alleyway), and that is possibly why he likes her so much at first. People avoid him in the streets now, the yellow scarf around his neck as obvious a warning as a wasp's stripes, and they step out of his way respectfully, not wanting to cause any trouble.

(He thought he'd like it - that sense of power, that feeling of being known and possibly even feared.

In reality, it's just really lonely.)

"Izaya-san?" she asks him, after his broaches the subject one fine day in April. "What about him?"

He shrugs, searching for the words he needs to put his thoughts into sentences. "What's he like?"

She's thoughtful, looking up at the patches of sunlight filtering through the leaves. "In a word, interesting."

"And in two words?" he asks, teasing her just the slightest bit.

She looks at him then, smiling that razor-sharp smile of hers. "Rather dangerous."

**3.** Meeting Orihara Izaya is like going into a spiral dive in a plane: you don't notice anything's wrong at first, because you keep on going on in this horrible path where you can't see anything; not the horizon or the outside lights or even your own nose in front of you. By that time, one of two things has happened: either you've realized your mistake and level out, with the sharp jerk of gravity pulling you back to reality in your seat, or you crash nose-first. If you're terribly unlucky, maybe your wings have snapped off too, what with all the frantic panicking you did in those last few seconds before the end.

It goes without saying that Kida has had plenty of warning signs beforehand. Studies show that first impressions have much to do with one's overall perception of an individual - or, in other words, trust your goddamn instincts because they're there for a reason.

He was out with his mother, a rare occasion, on some clumsy reason made up just so they could "spend some quality family time together".

And perhaps they should change the saying to, "think of the Devil and he shall appear," because of course they just had to bump into him.

"What would you happen to be doing here?" Izaya asks him, all polite smiles and manners. There's the hint of a heavily-veiled threat, but by this time Kida just figures Izaya always sounds that way.

"Just doing some shopping," Kida replies, looking at his mother in conformation. "Nothing too important."

"Then I shouldn't be keeping you," Izaya says, bowing to his mother before starting to walk away. "I'll see you later then, Kida-kun."

"Who was that?" his mother whispers fiercely, as soon as Izaya's back recedes into the distance.

"Just someone I know," Kida says, looking back over his shoulder. "Doesn't really matter, does it?"

His mother frowns. "I don't like him," she says, and no doubt she is feeling frustrated and bewildered over what she's thinking, because after all Izaya does look like the perfect young man, doesn't he? Polite to his elders, responsible, and all those nice things. "You should stay away, he could be dangerous."

Kida frowns. "No way," he says. "Look - nothing like that's gonna happen, okay? It'll all be fine. Trust me."

He might as well have pointed the plane's nose downwards himself.

**4.** When Kida finally meets him, Orihara Izaya is nothing like what he expected. But then again, what he expected isn't exactly a sure thing - in this city, it's so easy to be someone you aren't (and therefore, one could argue, so hard to stay true to yourself).

They meet in a cafe above a bookstore, looking out over a rather busy crosswalk despite it being only one in the afternoon. He's cutting class for this meeting, but at this point he doesn't care - he's got such grander things in store than trigonometry; he'll be remembered just as well as those old guys in the books by the time he's done here.

Kida arrives five minutes early. Orihara Izaya arrives - and no, he most definitely was _not_ counting - seventy-four seconds late.

"Are you Kida Masaomi?" he asks, hovering over Kida's seat, shadow looming over the table like black ink.

Kida looks up; merely nods, because for some strange, _strange_ reason his throat is suddenly clogged with what tastes, oddly enough, like fear.

"Good." Orihara Izaya smiles, lips curling slowly up. It's meant to look happy.

It looks nothing like.

"So, let's talk," he says, sliding into the booth across from Kida. "I heard you have a proposal for me."

Kida doesn't even think to question how he knows; he's too busy quelling the urge to run as fast as he can from this place, from this trapped-in enclosure where he is all of a sudden feeling far too vulnerable. He swallows, cramming it all down in an uneasy ball in the lower pit of his stomach, opens his mouth and begins to speak.

It's his first step forward (or maybe just the next two in the wrong direction).

**5.** In retrospect, Kida Masaomi is a complete and utter idiot. But then again, only hindsight is 20/20, and Kida hasn't been to an optometrist in years.

Everyone (he refuses to believe that he will be forgotten, thrown aside and trashed in the dark alleys he used to call more than home) will talk about how he should've seen it coming. How he should've read the warnings, and gotten the hell out before it became too much.

What nobody realizes, though, is that when it's really happening, the warnings don't seem like warnings. They look a little suspicious, but then again, so does everything else and you learn to live with it. You get used to the constant threat of danger, until it no longer feels dangerous and you can once again sleep without nightmares of what-could-be. The "signs" might as well be Disneyland's pixie dust, for all the good it did him.

If he thinks back on it hard enough (even though it's not something that he really likes doing), though, and turns his head sideways and squints, then he can pinpoint one time where he he could've seen this was all going to go to hell.

"It's not too late to back out," Izaya had said, that same fur jacket and goddamn Cheshire Cat grin on that he has on any other day of the year. "I've been told I get pretty scary at times, you know. I won't hold it against you if you do~"

And he was too confident, too young, too naive, too- well, any way it doesn't matter anymore. People can call him all the names they won't, but nothing will change the past. Because the fact of the matter is, he didn't take note of the danger - not because he couldn't see it, but because he saw it everywhere.

When you live with something so constant, you think it's normal. If you need glasses and don't have them, you don't think, "I can't see well". You think, "everyone sees the way I do".

**&6.** Izaya doesn't expect much from this_ kid_, who is all sharp angles and bony joints from where the rest of his body hasn't caught up growing yet.

But then again, that's the way he likes things. He prefers being surprised rather than disappointed, and keeping your expectations low is one of the best ways to go about achieving that.

Kida doesn't speak much at first, something in his mind keeping back the chatter and inevitable smiles. He opens up more, though, as time goes by, eventually reaching the point where he acts the same both out in the real world and here.

(This is where he smiles to himself. Humans can be so predictable.)

He has dinner soon after with an old acquaintance, going back and forth over things that neither of them care about but need to know anyways. Halfway through, though, they finish that topic and move onto something else.

"I hear you've got someone new working for you," he says, refilling his cup. "How's that going?"

Izaya can't help but grin. "It's going great," he says. "Kida Masaomi is wonderfully obedient when you know how to work with him."

His dinner partner raises his eyebrows. "The Yellow Scarves brat, huh?" he asks; he sounds slightly impressed. "I'm surprised you've even managed to hold on to him so long." He takes a sip. "'pparently he's like a time bomb - one wrong move and you'll be sent sky high."

Izaya just laughs gently. "Then I'll be sure to send him off to someone else before that happens."

(But everyone needs to make mistakes sometimes. Once in a while.)

He raises his own glass. "Cheers," he says.

(Even him.)

* * *

Unofficial deanoning once again lol. Written for the Durarara! kinkmeme on LJ (part 5, page 14 or so?) at approx. 2am (as usual, derp) which is why it kind of sucks lol. I'll post a revised version on LJ whenever I feel like being less lazy :D

Title and summary shamelessly stolen from 3OH!3's _Streets of Gold_ - can you tell that I adore that song yet? /laugh

EDIT: I am well aware that I totally trampled all over canon while writing this - it was late, cut me some slack hahaha. I'm honestly too lazy to rewrite it so uh...deal with it?


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